


Proof

by Barcardivodka



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcardivodka/pseuds/Barcardivodka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis and Hathaway are caught in a deadly race through the streets of Oxford.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proof

**Author's Note:**

> With grateful thanks to my betas - any errors are mine and mine alone.

As soon as they cleared the security barrier at the St Aldates police station, Hathaway switched on the blues and twos and swung left into the traffic. A green double-decker park and ride bus had to brake sharply as it edged out of Speedwell Streetwhen Hathaway cut across in front of it.

They were just past the Post Office when the traffic lights at the Carfax junction turned red, bringing the No. 5 and the No. 1 buses to a stop. With a muttered curse, Hathaway dropped down a gear and swung around them onto the wrong side of the road, sliding back across as the X90 London express slammed on its brakes rounding the corner of the High and into St Aldates.

Lewis calmly reached up and gripped the roof handhold to avoid slamming into Hathaway during the sharp manoeuvre.

“This reminds me of _The Sweeney_ ,” he commented with a smile. Hathaway straightened the car out and headed down the High, making even the most daring and hardened Oxford city pedestrian pause at the central traffic island as the car passed.

“ _The Sweeney_?” Hathaway asked they pelted down the High.

“You’ve never heard of _The Sweeney_?” Lewis said, aghast. “John Thaw and Dennis Waterman? Was about the Flying Squad? Made in the 70s?”

“Ah,” Hathaway replied with a smile as he swung out into the middle of the road to avoid an oblivious cyclist. “A little before my time, sir.”

“You must have caught it on repeat? All these channels these days, must be on Gold or Yesterday,” Lewis challenged. “You not going down Queen’s Lane?” he asked suddenly as Hathaway made no attempt to slow down to make the turn.

“Too narrow, sir,” Hathaway explained. “We’d lose too much time.”

“You must have seen _The Professionals_? _Starsky and Hutch_? _Hawaii Five-O_?” Lewis rattled off as Hathaway shook his head at the name of each programme. “What cops show have you watched then?” Lewis asked in exasperation. “ _Miami Vice?_ _Magnum PI_?”

“I remember _Due South_ ,” Hathaway replied as he came to the traffic lights just before Magdalen College. He had slow down and move over to the other side of the road to get past the waiting buses and taxis and round the large traffic island as he swung the car left into Longwall Street.

“ _Due South_?” Lewis repeated. “The one with the Mountie?”

“I always wanted a dog like Diefenbaker,” Hathaway said somewhat wistfully. “And of course, there was Miss Marple, Poirot, Sherlock Holmes...”

Lewis snorted in disgust.

“I have the box sets for _Midsomer Murders_ , sir,” Hathaway stated as they shot down St Cross Road.

“What about Mansfield Road, surely it’s quicker?” Lewis queried, as Jowett Walk loomed to their left.

“Mansfield and Holywell are closed to traffic today, sir, a film crew have taken it over,” Hathaway replied.

“That’s going to add some time.” Lewis grumbled.

“I could bring them round, after we’ve finished _Team Time_ ,” Hathaway said. He broke heavily to round the sharp bend that was the boundary of St Cross Road and South Parks Road, the heart of the scientific area of the University.

“Bring what round?” Lewis asked in puzzlement, as he steadied himself with a hand on the dashboard.

“The _Midsomer Murders_ DVDs,” Hathaway explained. “We’re on the last series of _Time Team_.”

“Thought we were going to do _Grand Designs_ after _Time Team_?” Lewis queried “And besides, if we’re going to watch a police drama, it’s going to be one with a bit of action.”

“What did you have in mind?” Hathaway slowed as he came towards the junction with Parks Road, having to weave around a car that had stopped to let him pass. Tourists and locals looked on curiously from the side of the road as Hathaway turned left and picked up speed again.

“ _The Sweeney_ ,” Lewis said with a nod. “Fill some of that gap in your education,” he smiled.

Hathaway gave an unenthusiastic nod, slowing at the end of Parks Road. He gave the King’s Arms pub on the corner a fond look, before turning into Broad Street, picking up speed as they zoomed past the Sheldonian Theatre, before coming to a shuddering stop outside Morton’s Sandwich shop.

Hathaway switched off the siren but left the blue lights flashing.

“You were right,” Lewis said, as he looked at his watch, impressed. “Four minutes, 12 seconds. You _can_ get from the station to the Broad in less than five minutes.”

They both turned to look at a strangely green-tinged Peterson in the back seat, who appeared on the verge of hyperventilating.

“You owe us a pint each, Peterson,” Lewis said smugly, while Hathaway grinned broadly.

 


End file.
